


Seduction

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-12-31
Updated: 2001-12-31
Packaged: 2018-11-20 05:08:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11329209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Further consequences of Mulders seduction of Byers. But what's wrong with Byers? And what's going to happen when Langly finds out?





	Seduction

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Seduction by Alison

Seduction by Alison  
Feedback: Yes please!  
Email: or   
Web Page: http://netjeru.ma-at.net/SurrealArts/Annex.html  
Category: Slash, Langly/Byers  
Rating: NC/17  
Status: Third in a linked series of stories following "Arousal" and "Compulsion"  
Disclaimer: Not mine, etc  
Archive: Lone Slasher, Basement, WWOMB, Gossamer, Ephemeral  
Summary: Further consequences of Mulders seduction of Byers. But what's wrong with Byers? And what's going to happen when Langly finds out?  
Note: You probably should read the first two stories to know what's going on here!

* * *

Same afternoon  
7 pm, Mulder's apartment

Mulder came awake with a start, temporarily disorientated to find himself draped awkwardly in his bedroom chair in his own room. His neck was stiff and aching from falling asleep sitting upright with his head on his chest. It had grown dark while he dozed; he reached and switched the bedside light on, looking over anxiously at the still figure asleep in his bed.

Byers was sleeping peacefully, breathing regularly, curled up under the pile of blankets. He had more colour, he looked much better than the terrible pallor he had had after his dizzy spell. Mulder looked at him closer, placing the back of his fingers lightly on the sleeping man's forehead. He was warm; that was good too, a sign that whatever had affected him had passed off. Mulder gently pushed the tumbled hair off Byers' forehead, feeling the silky softness of it, noting the way the long eyelashes lay against his cheek and how all the worry lines had smoothed out as he slept.

The light skin contact must have reached Byers; he muttered and his eyelids fluttered, his mouth twitching. He grunted softly and turned on his back. Mulder glanced at the clock. 7 pm; Byers had slept for nearly three hours. He probably shouldn't sleep any longer. Mulder drew back and spoke softly. "Hey, Byers."

"Mmmhhh . . ." Byers eyes opened sleepily and he blinked blearily at Mulder. "Uhhh . . . Mulder . . . oh yeah . . ."

"How ya feeling?"

Byers blinked and pushed himself up a bit on one elbow, his hand going to his forehead. "Um . . . better I guess . . . bit of a headache . . . thirsty though."

"Hold it right there. Don't try to get up yet." He headed for the kitchen and started to make tea.

Heading back to the bedroom with two mugs of tea, he found Byers sitting up, leaning back against the headboard with his eyes shut. Mulder stood and looked at him. Wrapped in the nest of blankets, he would have looked about fifteen years old if it wasn't for the beard, and Mulder felt his heart lurch.

Mulder put the mugs down on the nightstand and sat down again. He was suddenly very conscious that Byers was naked under the blankets - and why. Why should that suddenly embarrass him *now*? He shifted uneasily.

//Because it shouldn't have happened, you shouldn't have done it, he's not *yours*, he's off limits; isn't that enough??//

Byers sat up and reached out for his tea and the blanket slid off his shoulder. There were fingermark-shaped bruises on his upper arm. Mulder felt himself reddening and tried to look anywhere else. There was an uncomfortable silence. Byers broke it. "I should be getting back . . . I got work to do."

Mulder put out a hand to stop him. "No, take it easy. I don't think you should drive just yet. Besides . . . we need to talk."

"About this afternoon . . . look Mulder, I'm sorry. It shouldn't have happened, it's my fault, I'm sorry."

"SHUT UP willya!" Byers' mouth fell open and he looked at Mulder, hurt. "Will you stop saying sorry! This is not your fault, it's my responsibility, I brought out that stuff again, I . . . it's MY fault, Byers, so just shut up, okay? And it's not just that. I mean, what happened to you afterwards . . . is that normal? I mean, do you normally get dizzy like that?"

Byers shook his head. "No . .."

". . .'cause I think it's that stuff. You had a bad reaction to it. While you were asleep, I was thinking about that other time back in the summer .. . you remember. You took a long time to come out of it then, too. Not so long as this time, but quite a while."

Byers nodded tiredly. "Maybe . . . anyway, I thought you were going to get rid of it?"

Mulder flushed. "I did, all except that one. I thought . . . I don't know what I thought. I just wish now I'd never laid eyes on it."

Byers shrugged. "I can't blame you. It's powerful stuff, kinda tempting."

"That makes it worse. I shouldn't be reduced to using it on my friends, for god's sake."

"Would you have done anything if you hadn't known about me and Langly having that fight?" Byers leaned forward and the blankets fell apart, exposing his body down to below his waist. Mulder felt a sharp stab of desire mixed with guilt and forced himself to look Byers in the face, to meet the calm blue eyes challenging him. Damn . . . Byers usually looked so innocent, but right now it was impossible to tell what he was thinking.

Mulder ran his hands through his hair. He knew quite well that Byers was right. But how to explain to his long-time friend that he had wanted him so much; and that seeing him in his own bed, he wanted him now, more than he had wanted anything for a very long time. He got up. "I'm gonna go down to the basement right now and throw it in the incinerator. Will you be okay while I'm gone?"

"Sure, I should get up anyway."

===000===

When he got back the bed was empty, blankets thrown back, and he could hear water running in the shower. He took the opportunity to make a quick call to Frohike. Frohike was amenable. "Sure, Mulder, tell him everything's okay. It's real quiet here."

When he had finished he could still hear the shower. "What's he doing? Washing off every trace of me?" He could picture Byers in the shower, the water trickling over his body, down his smooth bare chest and flat stomach, over his ass . . . his sweet ass . . . I should go in there, pin him against the wall, kiss the breath out of him, take him right there . . .He dragged his thoughts away from that image.

//He doesn't want you, he loves Langly. Langly only has to snap his fingers. . . as soon as he's back, he'll go straight back to him . . .//

Byers emerged after a few minutes, in shirt and jeans, and sat down on the couch to towel his hair dry. His sleeves were partly pushed up revealing his powerful looking wrists, and Mulder felt a flutter of excitement in his stomach. And his hands . . . Byers had beautiful hands. How many times had he watched those hands at work, moving with certainty over a keyboard or with quiet efficiency at so many other tasks on Mulder's behalf.

//I'd like to feel those hands on me . . . for him to make love to me, for him to be in control, doing anything he wanted . . .//

"Er . . .feeling okay now?"

"Sure, never better."

"You don't need to get back, I called Frohike, he says it's real quiet there. Why don't you stay the evening? We could watch some of his tapes."

Byers' head emerged from the towel and he grinned, that unexpected mischievous smile that lightened his whole face. "I've seen them all about five times since Mel borrowed them, he's had a different one every night."

"I'm shocked, Byers, I thought you were above all that kinda thing."

"Oh, you'd be surprised."

"Okay, then, let me surprise you. Suppose I cook dinner for you?"

Byers laughed outright. "Now this I gotta see."

===000===

Dinner was an unexpected success; due to the discovery of some chicken and salad that Scully had brought for Mulder a couple of days ago in one of her periodic campaigns to make him eat more healthily; some pasta and a pasta sauce which turned out to be a joint creative effort based on what Mulder could remember of what his mother used to make, and Byers' memory of Frohike's recipe. They ended up in the kitchen, Mulder stirring the sauce and Byers sitting on the counter top making critical suggestions ("not too much garlic" and "Frohike puts more oregano in") which were mostly ignored by Mulder ("shut up, Byers, or I'll come over there and find a new use for this garlic crusher").

They ate it at the kitchen table, a bottle of wine between them, and talked and talked. About everything except what was on both their minds; about goatsuckers and vampires and liver eating monsters, telepathy and miracle cures and Elvis clones.

Finally they took their coffee back into the living room and settled down on the couch. Byers looked better, as if the food and wine had relaxed him for the first time in days. Perhaps he would talk now.

"So . . . what are you gonna do when Langly gets back?

Byers shook his head. "I don't know, Mulder. I just don't know."

"How do you feel about him, right now, then?"

Byers frowned, focusing on the coffee cup in front of him. "Angry . . . scared too I guess. I didn't want him to go, I thought it was dangerous. I'm worried right now about what might be happening to him. I tried to tell him but he just laughed at me. He totally ignored my feelings, my viewpoint."

"And the things he said . . .?"

"I can deal with that. He says these things but he doesn't mean them."

"Why do you put up with him then?"

Byers smiled. "That's easy . . . there's no-one else can make me feel the way he does. He's only got to touch my arm . . " He broke off, a tender smile curving his mouth. "He's totally self-centred, arrogant, moody, intolerant, childish, maddening . . . . but all he has to do is just look at me . . ." He sighed. "I've got it bad, I guess."

"So you let him walk all over you?"

Byers leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and rubbed one hand over his face. "It's not as simple as that . . ." He turned to face Mulder. "Dammit, yes you're right, and he makes me so mad sometimes . . . he'll come back in a couple days, just expect me to be there like nothing's happened, and all he'll have to do is smile at me and touch me."

"Who are you mad at then? Him, or you?"

Byers shrugged, shaking his head. "God, I don't know. Both I guess." He smiled lopsidedly. "Perhaps this time I should just kick his ass."

He was quiet for a long moment, staring in front of him. When he spoke his voice was low and husky, almost as if he was talking to himself.

"You know, he's never said he loved me. All this time, and he's never said it."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "He doesn't deserve you."

Byers was silent. Mulder reached out and gripped his shoulder. Just a comforting gesture of friendship; but Byers' shoulder was solid and warm under his fingers and he fought the temptation to turn the touch into a caress. But he let his hand stay there, a warm and reassuring connection while he tried to think of something to say.

"He'll want you back. Just give him time to think it over, let him realise what he's missing. Just promise me, when he gets back, you won't be the one who says sorry."

Byers raised his head and looked at him, and Mulder felt his heart melt. He had never seen Byers look so sad and lost. "I love him, Mulder. I'll do anything to get him back."

Mulder felt as if a knife was twisting in his heart, and realised with a rush of mingled desire and affection that he wanted him again. But not like before; he wanted to make love to him. Not fuck him in some drug induced chemical haze, but make love to him, comfort him, take him to bed and make him happy. Not the "other" Byers, but this one, his friend, the shy one. The one he wanted to make love to. For them to share something genuine, untainted and good.

He tried to lighten the mood. "Promise me something, Byers? If you do decide to kick his ass, can I watch?"

Byers snorted. "Watch? Mulder, you can hold him down."

"That's a deal. C'mon, let's go find one of those tapes."

===000===

They ended up watching a tape after all, side by side on the couch. Not one of Frohike's but some old Monty Python highlights.

Byers was quiet at first, as if his mind was still somewhere else, but soon he began to relax and laugh out loud. Mulder stole sideways glances at him as the evening went on, and realised he was seeing a side to Byers he had never seen before. Byers looked so different when he laughed. He should laugh more often, Mulder decided. He looked younger, more approachable . .. and much, much more desirable.

And Mulder didn't think he had laughed so much himself in a very long time. By the end the pair of them were in fits of giggles at the tape. The laughter was seductive; and when the tape had finished and Mulder got up to switch the TV off, Byers yawned and stretched his legs out in front of him. "Thanks, Mulder . . . it's been a great evening."

Mulder flopped back down on the couch and looked sideways at him longingly. Carefully and casually he rested his arm along the back of the couch. Byers looked very good indeed to him right now. Relaxed and casual, open, all barriers down. He had loosened the neck of his shirt and looked completely different from the usual tightly buttoned up Byers.

For the second time that evening the words escaped before he could stop them.

"Stay the night."

"I don't know, I don't think that's a good idea . . ."

"No . . . stay. Look, you can sleep on the couch if it makes you happy. But I don't think you should drive tonight. We know you're sensitive to that stuff, and we don't know how long it stays in your system."

"I don't know . . ."

"And Scully would never forgive me if anything happened to you because of me."

Byers laughed out loud at that and made an "I give up" gesture with both hands, leaning back and relaxing. "Scully? C'mon, Mulder, I don't think so."

"No really, John, she really likes you. You know Scully, she won't show it, but she really thinks a lot of you."

Byers shook his head, smiling.

"And so do I."

Byers started and turned his head towards him, his eyes widening.

Mulder shifted a little closer. He leaned forward and rested his hand on Byers' shoulder. He pulled gently; Byers didn't resist, in fact he turned to face him fully, and Mulder knew in rising excitement //he's going to let me, he's going to let me . . .//

He breathed "John" in the last heart stopping second before Byers' face was close to his own; saw Byers close his eyes in the second before he closed his own and their lips brushed, so softly against each other. Their first unforced, genuine kiss, natural and real. Mulder felt a shudder go through Byers' whole body but he returned the kiss with firm pressure and didn't pull away.

Then Byers' hand was on the back of his head, holding him there as they kissed, gently, lips brushing against each other, breaking off now and again to catch a breath, nibbling softly, sometimes little more than caresses, now deeper and hotter, but still so gentle.

Finally Byers broke away and exhaled a long breath. Before he could say anything Mulder slid his arms round him and pulled him into a long embrace, just holding him close. He whispered against Byers' ear. "Just stay tonight. Just one night."

He pulled back a little and ran his fingers down Byers' cheek. The other man was silent, just looking at him as seriously as ever.

"Mulder we shouldn't be doing this. We both know this isn't what you really want."

"Scully has made it pretty clear she doesn't want me. We both need some comfort. We both deserve something. Can't we help each other forget just for tonight?"

"It's not fair on you. I love Langly. You love Scully."

"I know you love Langly. I know he'll want you back. Hell, he'd have to be crazy not to. But just for tonight . . . stay with me. Not just fuck, like we did before. Let me make love to you. Just for us."

"Both of us settling for second best?" He laughed bitterly. "Don't you think that's pretty pathetic?"

"I'm not asking for a commitment. I'm not asking for tomorrow even. Just for tonight. I need you, and I think you need me."

Byers looked down and away; then back with a half smile on his face. He looked Mulder in the eyes. "Yes."

Mulder tighened his arms round the younger man, and kissed him again as he pressed him back down on the couch, feeling the length of the other man's body warm and firm under him as they kissed again, passion growing as they kissed deeper. Byers' hands were on his back, pulling him closer, travelling down his back, tracing the planes of his back and the curve of his ass. Pulling their hips together, Byers spread his legs so Mulder could lie between them and their hardening erections ground together. Byers' arms were tight round him, and Byers was moaning softly against his mouth and wriggling eagerly under him, making him incredibly aroused. He broke away and pushed himself up a little.

Byers' eyes were closed, his mouth open a little as he panted softly. He had never looked so beautiful or so hot. Mulder groaned with the effort of keeping control, wanting to make the anticipation last for ever. He kissed softly over Byers' face, his cheekbones, his eyes, the little mole on his cheek, his ear. He ran his tongue round the curve of Byers' ear and breathed hotly against it, and felt Byers' body shudder. He pulled back a little but saw to his amusement that Byers was laughing.

"You okay?"

"Yeah . . . tell you later."

"Come to bed, John."

Byers grunted and tightened his grip as if he didn't want to let Mulder go.

"C'mon John. Not here . . . my bed."

Byers shook his head. "Uh-uh . ." and wound his arms even tighter round Mulder.

"C'mon, guy." Mulder wriggled out of Byers' grip and struggled to his feet, dragging the other man after him. Byers slid to his knees beside the couch, grabbbing Mulder round the waist and nuzzling his face into his groin. Mulder gasped with surprise and laughter. Byers was unexpectedly amorous now he had made up his mind, even without the effects of the drug. "C'mon, tiger, let's get you into bed before you do us both an injury."

He pulled the younger man to his feet and dragged him, complaining and wriggling all the way, into his bedroom. He had to take a hand off Byers to open the bedroom door, and squawked in surprise when Byers grabbed his groin and squeezed. "Jeez-us!"

They were both laughing so much they were breathless by the time they landed on the bed in a tangle of limbs, rolling this way and that in growing excitement. Byers ended up on top, straddling Mulder's waist and pinioning his arms to the bed. He gazed down at Mulder and his breath caught in his throat as their eyes locked.

Abruptly he pressed himself down on top of Mulder, chest to chest and they kissed deeply, tongues probing sensuously. Byers pulled away and rolled off him to lie side by side and tugged at Mulder's sweatshirt. Mulder skinned it off and the instant his arms were free he pushed Byers on to his back and began to work on the buttons of his shirt. Slowly, one by one he unbuttoned them, fingers tracing down Byers' exposed chest, kissing down his breastbone as more and more smooth satiny bare skin was revealed. Byers' skin was warm under his lips, little tremors shivering through him wherever Mulder's mouth touched him.

When the shirt was gone he began to work on Byers's jeans, unzipping the fly and sliding one hand under the waistband of his boxers. He pushed the jeans out of the way and his fingers traced down Byers' stomach, pushing through the wiry hair on his abdomen and exploring round the base of his cock. Byers was breathing deeply, his chest heaving with excitement, his eyes never leaving Mulder's face. His cock was already swollen, hard against his stomach as Mulder grasped it in his hand.

Mulder's lips travelled lower and lower, brushing down over the hot skin till at last he buried his face in Byers' groin, inhaling deeply. He breathed out hotly and Byers shivered and whimpered in delight. He slid an arm over Byers' thighs to hold him down. "Keep still . . . let me . . ."

He slid his fingers round the base of Byers' cock, tickling through the soft gingery hair, and took the head in his mouth in one quick movement, sucking hard. Byers yelped and squirmed and Mulder growled in the back of his throat, making Byers shudder with the vibration. He sucked harder, taking more of Byers into him, clenching his mouth round the hot shaft and milking the drops of pre-come. He slid his other hand over Byers' abdomen and felt the tremors rippling through the muscles; Byers was ready to come, so ready; Mulder lifted his mouth away for a few seconds to look at his face. His head was rolling from side to side on the pillow, eyes tight shut but his lips drawn back from clenched teeth. He was breathing in a series of high pitched ragged gasps but let out a moan at the loss of Mulder's mouth on him.

Mulder returned to his task with renewed determination; he was going to give Byers the best orgasm of his life. Running his tongue up and down the shaft, alternating with licks, kisses and little nibbling bites round the head, using his other hand to stroke and squeeze his balls; he was driving Byers into a frenzy, his moans becoming louder and louder as he felt himself reaching the precipice. Mulder felt the hardening against his tongue and plunged forward, swallowing Byers down as he bucked up off the bed in his desperation in the second before he came with a scream.

Mulder felt himself come in the same second while he was still swallowing down all Byers could give him, his hips jerking spasmodically till he was spent. Mulder pulled away and dropped his head on Byers' stomach, both of them totally exhausted.

When he had the strength to move he shifted up to lie next to Byers, pulling the blankets over the pair of them. Byers sighed in contentment and snuggled against him.

Mulder looked carefully at him, but he didn't seem to be having an adverse reaction this time. "Hey Byers, you okay?"

Byers' eyes slit open and he laughed softly in response. "Yeah . . . you bet.."

Mulder chucked as a thought struck him, and Byers looked at him curiously. "What is it?"

"It's just that I never had you figured for a screamer . . or a giggler."

Byers grinned. "Shut up, Mulder. Let me get my breath back, then it's your turn."

===000===

Same night  
Lone Gunmen HQ

Langly called at 1 am. Frohike was in bed reading when the phone rang. It sounded like he was calling from a public phone, maybe in a bar; loud voices and laughter sounded in the background as well as the insistent thumping beat of some unidentifiable rock track. Langly sounded as cocky as ever. "Hey, Fro, how ya hangin'?"

"'Bout what you'd expect, trying to put together the latest issue on my own."

"Shit, Fro, don't give me that. There's another ten days till the next deadline."

"Didn't you hear, dumbass? ON MY OWN??"

"Whaddya mean, you got Byers there, aincha?"

"No, he ain't here, if you're interested."

"Where is he?" Was that a note of hesitation in the hippie jerk's voice?

"Like I said, not here. He went over to Mulder's this afternoon with some tapes, he's not back yet. You know Mulder, they probably had a few beers and he's had to stay the night."

"Uh-huh. Er . . . Mel, is he okay? Has he said anything to you?"

"Like what?"

"Uh . . I dunno. I mean . . . like, about when I left, like . . ."

"Oh THAT. I see, buddy. Four days later and you decide you wanna find out what kind of mess you left here?"

"Well . . ."

"Well whaddya expect, you jerk, after you walked out? He's been a mess. First time he's been out of the office today since you left. But . . ."

//okay, time to play with your mind just a bit . .//

". . . but I'm pretty sure you don't need to worry."

"Worry? Whaddya mean, Fro?"

"Oh, come on buddy. You know what I'm talking about."

"No? I don't. What ya getting at, you dickhead?" That familiar defensive whine was back in Langly's voice.

"Well, you musta noticed the way Mulder looks at Byers . . ."

"WHAT!!"

"You know. You musta noticed, Langly. Looking at him kinda . . . LOOKING at him, ya know? And if you're gonna just walk out on Byers like you did the other day, what can you expect?"

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. When Langly spoke again he was entirely different, subdued, hesitant. "Fro . . . you don't really think . . "

"I DON'T know, Langly. All I'm sayin' is, you better get clear in your head what it is you do want, okay?"

And he slammed the phone down before Langly could reply.

Frohike sat there for a while, brooding. Then he picked up the phone again and dialled Mulder's number. No reply, and the recorded message cut in. Frohike thought quickly. "Hey Mulder, is Byers still with you? Tell him to call me, willya?"

Frohike put the phone down, thought a bit more, then redialled.

"Hey Mulder, if Byers is there, tell him to call me. Tell him Langly just called."

In Mulder's living room the light on the phone blinked patiently, unnoticed and forgotten.

END

To be continued . . .

**************************

"Many small people who in many small places do many small things can alter the face of the world" -- Graffiti on the Berlin Wall

  
Archived: December 26, 2001 


End file.
